The Wheatley School
Class Of 1963
Welcome, Wheatley '63 Wildcats, Hipcats and Housecats. Yours is the 8658th visit.
Through the links below you can download ALL the photos (will save on your computer as zip file):
All of the 50th Reunion Dinner pictures taken by the Pro . (9.7MB)
All the 50th Reunion pictures ( Fri, Sat, Sun) taken by us. (16.7MB)
Pictures of us for the last 50 years. (35.2MB)
All the Profile pictures we all have uploaded to our Profile. (16.7MB)
- The 1963 yearbook pictures (0.6MB as best we can reproduce them). This includes the welcome late-comer, Richard Lawrence. (You have to log in and join before your yearbook picture can be available. So, you other late-comers, join!)
For how long, for how many years, for how many countless days, in how many
forms and ways and endless multiple combinations of these individual parts—in
classes, breaks, and lunches, practices, snacks, and study halls, detentions, bus
rides, parties, and late night calls—and Satan only knows what else—did I spend
time laughing and lusting and just plain spacing out with these people at this
table and in the Reunion room beyond? Somewhere in the confines of this space
an energy has been stirred to life by the vortex of this assemblage of us—the gravity of it—this unique electro-magnetic field we produce—the singular atomic-weighted density of the signature of the product of these bodies in motion and at rest—nowhere else reproducible except right here in our living presence—the feelings, vibrations, and associations that only this one particular confluence of beings could generate—a living Time Machine—a mystery of this Earth and Universe as profound and akin to that which guides the salmon back upstream to the precise spot of her spawning, that which allows the sea birds and the great, heaving turtles to navigate across the vastness of the oceans—something in our collective life that got built into us period by period as we sat side by side all those
years we existed together—not as lone wolves—but as members of the extended family of us—our class—more time spent day in and out with each other than with our own actual families—as siblings and cousins to one another—as connected to each other in the flesh as if we were puppies of a litter—stumbling about still half blind and deaf in that time of our newness that preceded full consciousness and identity—discovering the world as much through feeling and touch and, for better or worse, in trial and error, through all that we had—our inseparability with each other—connected forever in wordless memory.
Do you hesitate to post something on your profile, or to make a change? Learn true courage from this man:
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